Secondary Feathers — Chapter Three
Two Souls, One Struggle: Finding Connection in Isolation
CHAPTER THREE
An hour later, I was still immobilized in the chair, but not because of the mouse. I wasn’t afraid of things like mice and snakes — I just couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm to do anything. Eventually, though, it got cold. And dark.
After some scrounging (I had had the wherewithal to bring a flashlight; wonders never cease), I found an old box of 60-watt lightbulbs in a cupboard under the sink and replaced two burned-out bulbs: one in the living room and one in the kitchen. Once the inside of the cabin lit up, I almost wished I hadn’t bothered. It really did need a good clean. But outside of a mostly empty bottle of pine sol and a container of what was likely fifty-year-old Ajax, there wasn’t anything in the cabin that was going to be of much use. I guess I was Freeley-bound in the morning. Cleaning supplies and sundries. And maybe a pumpkin-spiced latte because it would be the first of October tomorrow.
I had light. Now I needed heat. I put on my oversized blue sweater, stuffed my feet into my hiking boots, and went out into the inky darkness. I found the woodpile at the side of the cabin, only it didn’t have any wood. Okay. That was annoying, but it wasn’t the end of the world. I mean, I…
